facade.

i've lost myself in these walls again. it's quiet in here with all this narrow space and insulating closeness. it's the only place where i can still curl up and imagine the smell of your hair.

events and happenings occurring and distributing emotion outside of these terribly hollow walls, but i'm small and warm between boards, even by myself, falling in and out of slight sleeps.

light peeks in through nail holes and gaps in molding, and i read your story by these second hand lights inside these walls that i built all on my own. (where i'll stay because i'm safe.)

(where i'll pass some time.)